The door had closed between Ann's past and her future! Truedale got upon his feet, but he was still dazed and uncertain as to what he should do next. Then he heard Lynda say, and it almost seemed as if she spoke from a distance she could not cross, "Little Ann, bring father." He looked at Lynda and her white face startled him, but she smiled the kind, true smile that called upon him to play his part. Somehow the rest of the plan ran as if no cruel jar had preceded it. The supper was perfect--the guests merry--and, when he could command himself, Truedale--keeping his eyes on Lynda's face--confessed. For a moment every one was quiet. Surprise, delight, stayed speech. Then Ann asked: "And did you do it behind the locked door, father?" "Yes, Ann." "Well, I'm glad I kept Billy out!" "And Lyn--did you know?" Betty said, her pretty face aglow. "I--I guessed." But the men kept still after the cordial handshakes. McPherson was recalling something Jim White had said to him recently while he was with the sheriff in the hills. "Doc, that thar chap yo' once sent down here--thar war a lot to him us-all didn't catch onter." And Brace was thinking of the night, long, long ago, when Conning threw some letters upon the glowing coals and groaned! CHAPTER XXIII They were home at last in old William Truedale's quiet house. Conning went upstairs with Ann. Generally Lynda went with him to kiss Ann good-night before they bent over Billy's crib beside their own bed. But now, Lynda did not join them and Ann, starry-eyed, prattled on about the play and her joy in her father's achievement. She was very quaint and droll. She ran behind a screen and dropped her pretty dress, and issued forth, like a white-robed angel, in her long gown, her short brown curls falling like a beautiful frame around her gravely sweet face. Truedale, sitting by the shaded lamp, looked at her as if, in her true character, she stood revealed. "Little Ann," he said huskily, "come, let me hold you while we wait for mommy-Lyn." Ann came gladly and nestled against his breast. "To think it's my daddy that made the splendid play!" she whispered, cuddling closer. "I can tell the girls and be so proud." Then she yawned softly. "Mommy-Lyn, I suppose, had to go and whisper the secret to Billy," she went on, finding as usual an excuse instead of a rebuke. "Billy's missed the glory of his life because he's so young!" Another--a longer yawn. Then the head lay very still and Truedale saw that she was asleep. Reverently he kissed her. Then he bore her to the little bed behind the white screen, with its tall angels with brooding eyes. As he laid her down she looked up dreamily: "I'm a pretty big girl to be carried," she whispered, "but my daddy is strong and--and great!" Again Truedale kissed her, then went noiselessly to find Lynda.